


Not The Way You Plan

by plinys



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Christmas, F/F, While You Were Sleeping AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-19 04:01:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13115580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plinys/pseuds/plinys
Summary: In which Sara lies about dating a guy in a coma, and might accidentally be falling in love with his sister in the meantime.





	Not The Way You Plan

**Author's Note:**

  * For [isloremipsumafterall](https://archiveofourown.org/users/isloremipsumafterall/gifts).



> beej once wrote me a while you were sleeping au, so now its only fair that i return the favor

“Hey, get away from her!”

The thing is she would have been fine.

Sure, maybe a little bruised up, if worse came to worse, but if there was one thing Sara Lance had learned how to do it was how to fight back. Her father was a cop. Her sister used to work at a gym. Her ex-girlfriend might actually have been an assassin. 

A couple of guys saying inappropriate things to her while she waited for the bus, that was nothing. 

She could have had them on their asses within five minutes if she had been putting up any effort, but she had been waiting for them to actually make a move rather than just being all talk, because a part of her had been betting that they wouldn’t and it wasn’t worth of punching out a bunch of perverts when she had a family dinner to get to. 

Her mother may not have been in town, but Laurel could still bring the judgement to her tone if Sara were to show up with split knuckles, a  broken bottle of wine, and nothing to show for it.

Of course, now - 

Now she might actually have something to show for it. 

“I said get away from her.” 

He seems like a nice guy, good citizen; Star City had so few of those. A brown trench coat, a paper bag that was clearly hiding two bottles from the liquor store he had just exited, a watch that was just this side of flashy - not the best sort of look for a person on  _ this  _ side of town. 

Sara, with her leather jacket thrown over a little black dress, looked like she could belong here, but this guy. 

He was a walking target.

And she knew, even before he stepped forward to come in and defend  _ her  _ honor of all things, what was going to happen. Could see it in perfect clarity, because hitting on a girl that wasn’t interested in them, well that just an average Thursday night, but this guy - he was too easy of a target for them not to do anything. 

It happens so fast.

That’s what she’ll tell the officers that show up later.

That he stepped in to defend her, and it happened so fast, four against one, he hardly stood a chance. Probably would have been dead if it hadn’t been for Sara there to aim a well placed heel into their sensitive parts, and remind these guys who this city belonged to.

It’s bang of a gun that eventually stops them.

The liquor store owner finally realizing what is going on outside of his shop, firing one into the air, enough to scare the other guys away - not that Sara wouldn’t have gotten them there, eventually - leaving just Sara and her would be savior behind.

Would be, being the keyword, since currently he was sprawled out on the sidewalk. 

She crouches down beside him, feeling for a pulse, for breath against the back of her hand as she rests it over his mouth. The way her dad had taught her to. She feels it there, he’s alive -hit his head good enough to knock him out, and there’s blood matting his brown hair - but he’s alive so at least there’s that. 

“Call an ambulance,” she calls out to the liquor store owner. While she reaches into the pocket of his trenchcoat, pulling out a beaten up leather wallet, and flipping it open to his driver’s license, “Alright, Michael Hunter, let’s hope you’re not brain damaged or anything.”

 

*

 

It had just slipped out when the ambulance had arrived.

One little white lie, so that she could get a ride to the hospital. 

Strangers didn’t get to ride in the back with the injured, but  _ girlfriends  _ well that was another story entirely. She figured that she deserved to see this out, after all, he had gotten hurt saving her and it was the least Sara could do to make sure that he was at the hospital safe and sound and that they people that actually cared about him showed up. 

After that, she figured she could go down to the hospital gift shop, but one of those  _ thank you  _ teddy bears and call them settled. 

Which seems like a solid plan until the officer questioning her about the incident says, “Wait, you’re the Captain’s daughter, aren’t you? Laurel?”

“I’m actually the other one. The less successful one.” 

That earns her a small sort of grin from the officer, not one of understanding, but they are standing in a hospital while she waits for her updates on her very much  _ fake  _ boyfriend. So Sara’s going to take what she can get. 

“Actually, could you do me a favor and call my dad to let him know that I’m going to be a little late for dinner?”

 

*

 

“I’m sure you boyfriend will wake up soon, don’t worry,” the nurse quietly reassures her, when they come in to check on Michael. He’s still knocked out, sleeping almost, though more accurately in a medically induced coma. 

She was sitting with him and waiting. 

They’d called his emergency contact, a sister from out of town, but who knew when she would be here or even if that was possible, and Sara couldn’t just leave him.

He had tried to save her. 

Failed, obviously.

But he had tried. 

Also he wasn’t a half  bad looking guy, at least when he’s asleep, not that it was appropriate to be thinking about strangers in comas that way. Not at all, but well, Sara’s admittedly checked people out under worst circumstances. 

And if all else failed that nurse was - 

“You know when I got a call to say that my daughter’s  _ boyfriend  _ got mugged, I had thought they meant the other daughter,” her dad says, and Sara turns away from her vigil over Michael to look at him. 

He’s still in his uniform, which means Sara wouldn’t have been the only one late to dinner. 

Though Laurel’s with him, worry on her features, a look that Sara knows all too well. She flashes them both a hesitant smile, not even sure where to begin explaining this whole mess. Though she’s surely going to have to explain why she was planning on sitting by a stranger’s bedside all night. 

“Sorry I ruined dinner,” she says, turning that smile into an exaggerated frown.

That, at least wipes the concern from Laurel’s face for a moment, as she gives a sort of knowing smile.

“Sara did say that she had big news,” Laurel points out, already moving across the room and settling down on the arm of the chair that Sara had been sitting in. 

Big news.

Right.

She had been planning on telling them that she’d lost her job at  _ Sink, Showers, and Stuff _ \- which was technically a step above bartending at Thea’s club, but maybe not exactly what anyone in this family had in mind for her - or more like quit. 

She hadn’t been certain whether they would have approved or disapproved; she’d been planning to break the news over wine so that it was easier to handle. 

Of course, now that announcement seems so minor. 

Whereas a fake boyfriend was much more - “Well, he seems better than Oliver.” 

“That’s an incredibly low standard, Daddy.” 

“Then again we did like Nyssa.” 

“Be nice,” Laurels insists.

And their father grumbles something about going to get coffee, and to figure out what all is going on in this hospital.

A question that Sara probably needs to answer herself. 

But she hesitates, looks back at Michael, still laying there waiting for someone to arrive, and leans into the comfort of her sister beside her. 

Laurel is quieter when she speaks, pressing their heads together in an offer of comfort, the kind of comfort that only her sister can give. “You didn’t tell me that you were dating anyone, but you’re also so secretive about these things, so I’m not surprised, I’m just… I worry about you.” 

“You don’t have to,” Sara insists, “I’m fine.” 

She is.

She always manages to find a way to be fine. 

This feels like the right moment, the moment to come clean, to say  _ funny story but actually  _ and explain the whole thing. They’ll laugh it off like nothing, still be concerned that she’s going to actually die alone, but they won’t have to pretend. 

Not here among family. 

In fact, the words are there on the tip of her tongue, about to be said into the space between them, when they’re stopped - stuck in her mouth instead, silenced by the sound of an opening door. 

She turns to look over her shoulder quickly, sure that it’s the nurse back again to check on Michael again, except it’s not. 

There’s a woman standing there, in a navy pants suit, with her hair tied back into a sharp bun, and a look on her face that says concern and frustration all at once. She’s beautiful. A realization that hits Sara suddenly, knocking the wind out of her, because while minutes ago she may have been contemplating the fact that Michael didn’t look half bad, this woman was something else entirely. 

Clearly not a nurse. 

“I’m sorry,” the woman says in a rush, “They told me that my brother was in here and-” 

“Oh my god,” Laurel says, before Sara can say anything. “Of course, he’s right here.”

Which is good because all she can think is  _ oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck _ , which wouldn’t have been the best thing to say out loud. 

She manages not to say that instead, floundering, “You must be-”

“Ava,” she says, quickly sticking a hand out between them. 

A hand that Sara meets halfway.

A soft and cold hand, with a steady grip. 

“And you’re the  _ girlfriend _ ,” Ava says this word with a tone like disbelief, and Sara can’t blame her. After all she wasn’t really his girlfriend. “I’m sorry - I don’t know your name. Rip and I barely talk anymore.”

“Sara,” she offers.

“Sara,” Ava echoes. 

She makes a brief mental note that apparently  _ Michael  _ went by  _ Rip _ . 

Something that she would be needing, because Laurel and Ava were introducing themselves to each other, and it was all spiraling into too much all at once and there hadn’t yet been a moment for her to mention that she wasn’t actually his girlfriend. 

“Hey, why don’t we give you two some alone time. My dad was going to go get us coffees, I could grab you one,” Sara offers, looking for an excuse to leave more than anything else. 

But Ava shoots her a look that might genuinely be grateful, with a smile that was going to be a problem if this situation dragged on. “Thank you.” 

 

*

 

She wastes as much time as she can getting coffee. Talks with her dad and Laurel, never getting the chance to mention that she wasn’t actually dating Rip and had just met him. She couldn’t, not when they had both looked so happy to hear that she was with someone.

There was time for that later.

She could stage an elaborate break up in a few days, mope around a bit on Christmas, maybe even blame it on Rip’s sister, say that she hadn’t liked Sara or something.

Wouldn’t be the first sister of a former significant other not to like her. 

That trophy belonged to Talia.

All in all, it seemed like a solid plan.

Really the only person she had to come clean to was Ava, who had just met her, and surely would understand, as any logical person would, that Sara had just wanted to make sure that Rip got to the hospital safely and that someone eventually came to look after him. 

Nobody wanted to be alone on the holidays right? 

She steadies herself with that plan in mind, sends Laurel and her dad on their way with promises that she would call in the morning, and grabs two to go cups of coffee to take back upstairs to Rip’s hospital room. 

Ava is still there when she gets back. Sitting in the chair that Sara had been sitting in before, scrolling through on her phone, tongue sticking out ever so slightly past her lips in a look of concentration, that was far too cute for a total stranger that Sara was lying to in a hospital. 

“Sorry it took so long.” 

“No, that’s okay,” Ava insists, taking the offered coffee from her.

Sara crosses to the other side of the hospital bed, taking the only other seat in the room. 

Once she’s settled, Ava speaks, “I’m sorry I didn’t introduce myself better before, I was a little caught up in the whole situation.”

“You mean, the fact that your brother is in a coma?”

“Yes, that,” Ava confirms, with a small nod. “I’m Rip’s sister, which I guess you probably already knew, I mean not his  _ sister  _ sister, we grew up in the same foster home. I told him I would visit for the holidays so he didn’t have to be alone, which he had tried to insist was fine and that he didn’t need me here. Something that now makes sense meeting you.” 

When she shoots Sara another one of those small soft sort of smiles, Sara can’t help but do the same in return. 

Even if she could can feel guilt already eating her up inside. 

“The doctor’s said that you saved Rip-”

“Technically the guy with the shotgun saved us both.” Though Sara would still insist that she eventually could have saved them both.

“Still,” Ava insists, “You’re his girlfriend, and I guess that’s a good thing. I mean, Rip needs someone looking after him especially after Miranda and Jonas… I thought he’d never be able to move on again. He was so sad for so long, but I don’t know-” Ava turns to gaze at sleeping Rip, and Sara follows her gaze. “I guess, he seems happy, even if he’s comatose.” 

Sara may not know exactly what Ava is talking about, or well, any of it. But she knows the tone. It’s the same tone Laurel had used with her earlier, hopeful concern. Ava was worried about her brother and apparently just by existing, by  _ lying _ , she had helped to make that worry a little bit less.

She couldn’t take that away from Ava.

It didn’t feel fair. 

“I talked to the doctor’s earlier, and they said he could wake up in a day or two, just in time for Christmas,” Sara says, changing the topic. “If you needed somewhere to stay, I mean, I have a place.”

“I have a hotel,” Ava says, stiffly, and then softer when she speaks again, “But thank you.” 

And even though Sara knows that it’s a bad idea. Even though she had decided as much when Laurel had suggested it earlier before leaving. There’s something about Ava that makes her forget all of the logical reasons of what that is. 

“Hey, if Rip’s still asleep tomorrow, do you want to be my plus one instead? I’m friends with the mayor and he’s throwing this really swanky holiday party? Maybe something to take your mind off of all of this, just for a little moment?”

“I think I’d like that.” 

 

*

 

“Hey Z-”

“No.”

“I haven’t even said anything this is offensive, first off,” Sara says into the phone, “Now buzz me up.” 

“What’s the secret password?”

“I brought donuts.”

A moment later the apartment door buzzes, and Sara reaches out to tug the handle open, taking two stairs at at time until she reaches the third floor landing where Zari lives. Zari’s already there with the door open, greedily reaching for the bag in Sara’s hands, which she relinquishes without a fight. 

“These aren’t donuts,” Zari announces opening up the bag. 

“They’re donut holes and they’re delicious, stop complaining,” Sara says, pushing her way up into the apartment, and settling on Zari’s futon like she owns the place. They used to be roommates, so Sara figured that it counted. “I need you to hack something for me.” 

“That why you brought a half assed bribe?”

“Yes,” Sara replies, “And also I’ve been at the hospital since seven pm yesterday, I haven’t slept yet, and they sold these there when I was getting my eighth coffee.” 

“A reasonable number of coffees.” 

Sara shoots fingers guns back at her in reply. 

“Why were you in the hospital?” 

“Hypothetically speaking, I may have lied about dating a guy, who may have brain damage because he was trying to save me, but either way is now in coma, and then I may have invited his really hot sister to Ollie’s party tonight?” 

“Hypothetically speaking.”

“Maybe less than hypothetical,” Sara gives in, “His name’s Michael Hunter, he goes by Rip, and I need you to find out everything there is to know about this guy so I don’t sound like a complete idiot until he wakes up and I have time to fix this.” 

Zari shrugs her shoulders, before stuffing two donut holes into her mouth, and reaching to power up one of the many laptops that litter her coffee table. 

“You know, you could always just tell the truth,” a voice that is very much  _ not Zari  _ \- because Zari is way too cool to rag on Sara that way and also is currently stuffing all the food within reach into her mouth - says.

And Sara looks towards the bathroom, and where Amaya stands in the doorway in nothing but a white bathrobe, that look of judgement in her eyes. But like, the cool kind of judgement. The kind that says,  _ you’re making a mistake, but it’s your life so do whatever you feel is best _ . 

The kind that Sara doesn’t feel bad ignoring by changing the topic.

“Wait, are you two sleeping together?”

 

*

 

Oliver’s party is a bit  _ much _ . 

Then again, Queen holiday parties always had been, and with the added bonus of Oliver being mayor now well... At least, there’s an open bar. 

Something which Sara has always been a big fan of. 

“Thank you again for inviting me.”

“Yeah, of course.”

Sara gives an introduction of everyone who is there, all the little goings on of the city, but her mind is only half in it. The other part of her mind is occupied with the sight of Ava, there in a gold dress that seems to sparkle in the light whenever she moves, a dress with a v-cut neckline that Sara’s eyes can’t help but be drawn to, and her hair down from yesterday’s bun, instead falling now effortlessly over one shoulder.

She looks good. 

Almost too good to be real. 

Clearly she’s picked the wrong sibling to lie about dating. 

“I don’t really know anyone,” Ava says, when they’ve gotten their first round of drinks - or Ava’s first, technically Sara’s third, “I’m just going to stick by your side.” 

“You’ll regret that,” Sara assures her, “I’m terrible company. Most of the people here are avoiding me actually. You’ll be in more luck of finding a charming conversation for the evening if you just pretend like you’ve never met me.”

“Why’s that?”

“Why’s what?”

“Why are they ignoring you?”

“Because I’m a mess.”

“You don’t seem like a mess to me.”

“You don’t even know me.”

“No, I don’t,” Ava agrees, “But I’d like to?”

It’s so genuine and sincere. And Sara gets it, who wouldn’t want to get to know their sibling’s significant other, except Sara doesn’t think that she can just get to know Ava and keep her head where it’s supposed to be. It’s hard to pretend that she’s in love with some guy she’s never really met when Ava is staring at her like that. 

Instead she looks around the party desperately before meeting her sister’s eyes and quickly waving Laurel over. 

At which point it is all too easy to pawn Ava and Laurel off on talking to each other, especially once it’s revealed that they’re both lawyers, and they start talking about subjects that Sara can’t even begin to comprehend. 

But Ava looks happy, and less stressed, and that counts for something, so Sara counts is as a success as she slips away from the two of them and doubles back to the bar, ordering two shots of Fireball and taking them down just as fast.

 

*

 

She’s drunk.

Maybe more than a little drunk. 

Which was why walking Ava home even though it hard started to snow outside felt like a good idea.

“You can’t possibly be warm enough in that,” Ava insists. She’s wearing some long black pea coat over her dress, and it’s a good look. Classy and composed, a grey scarf around her neck and a pair of  _ earmuffs  _ of all things over her ears.

She looks warm, whereas Sara has been insisting that every weather is  _ cool leather jacket  _ weather for too long to take it back. 

“I have the fire of Fireball burning within me,” Sara insists, “I’ve never been warmer!”

She doesn’t get the laugh that she deserved in reply, an eye roll instead. 

“No, but you know what I’m talking about like, that fire inside of you. That’s why people in Antartica drink so much.”

“I don’t think there’s actually people in Antartica.”

“There’s penguins thought.”

“Penguins don’t drink.” 

“People research penguins,” Sara counters successfully, grinning at her own brilliance, “And they drink to forget-”

“How cold it is?”

“How boring penguins are.”

There it is. That laugh. Just a little thing, but it’s something, and most surely a success, and Sara punches the air in victory. Twirling ever so slightly, her heel digging into the snowy sidewalk, as she does so, spinning so that her skirt fans out around her. 

Something which seemed better in her head, as she staggers in place a bit, Ava reaching out a moment later to steady her. 

It’s nice, standing here, in the middle of the night, the snow falling down around them, Ava’s hands on her waist. The streetlight catches her hair just so, reflecting the blonde hues against her face, almost lighting her up. 

Sara’s struck by an impulse, a small reckless one, to push upwards and kiss Ava. 

Ava looks like the sort of person that would have soft lips, but would kiss back with solid assurity. She looks like the type of person that knows how to kiss a girl. 

She doesn’t get a chance to kiss her though.

Because Ava speaks up, breaking the silence in the moment, so abruptly that it feels like someone tossing cold water over her, “You know, I think I’m a little jealous of Rip?” 

“Oh yeah?”

“I mean, who wouldn’t want a girlfriend with such strong opinions about penguins?”

It’s a joke.

A little something to break the awkwardness around them, and Sara takes it, she takes it as an opportunity to move out of Ava’s space and not focus on the way she suddenly feels cold without the other woman’s touch. 

About how she wanted so badly to kiss her a moment before.

About how a part of her still wanted to kiss Ava. 

“I’m taking that as a compliment.”

 

*

 

There’s an email from Zari the next morning, an information packet that’s so much more in depth than the few things they had managed to pull up the day before. This is -

It’s a lot to take in.

And that guilty feeling only seems to grow as she reads about him.

About the foster home he grew up in after his father disappeared. (The same one Ava must had been in.)

About the library that he works for. (And his apparently well known passion for the Dewey Decimal System.)

About his late wife and son. (Killed the year before during a home robbery gone wrong while Rip was working late.)

It’s that last bit that reminds her of the tone Ava had, when she insisted that she was so happy Rip was moving on and taking care of himself. She remembers him, the brief moment that they met, a stranger stepping up to defend her against some guys catcalls. 

He seemed like a good guy.

A guy who deserved better than Sara lying about being his girlfriend while he was in a coma. 

“Fuck me.” 

 

*

 

She had a plan.

She’d put on her big girl pants, and her darkest shade of sunglasses, splurged on an Uber to the hospital, and had even bought one of those gift store teddy bears, a big blue one that said  _ I’m Sorry  _ on its stomach, that cost well more than it was worth. 

That plan goes all out the window when she gets there and sees Ava at Rip’s bedside again.

She’s got her hair tied back again, but this time she’s in jeans and a Gotham Knights hoodie, and she’s got her laptop balanced on her knees working on something that looks important - and any thought Sara might have had of confession goes out the window at once because Sara can’t lose her.

She may have just met Ava, but Ava was special. 

There had to be some way to salvage this where she still got to be around her.

“Hey, Aves, you look like you need lunch?”

“You look hungover.”

“Hungover people also need lunch, coincidence?”

 

*

 

“Hey, did you pack an ugly sweater?”

“No. Why?”

“Okay, well you need to go out and buy one. Trust me.”

“Why do I have a bad feeling about this?”

“Because you’re starting to get to know me, Aves.”

 

*

 

As great as Oliver’s party had been, it was nothing compared to the  _ 3rd Annual Legendary Holiday Kickback.  _

So, okay, maybe having a holiday party with her D&D squad wasn’t everyone’s usual idea of a good time, but for Sara it was perfect. All of her favorite people, plus a few people who weren’t exactly her favorite but since apparently Kendra was dating them they could come too. 

Apparently. 

Martin had even shown up in an Hanukkah sweater that lit up, and an insistence that he was going to leave before it got too late.

These were Sara’s people. So much more than everyone that had been at the fancy party the night before. Here nobody judged her for being Laurel’s younger and much less successful sister. They appreciated Sara for exactly who she was, and that was more than Sara could ever have asked for. 

With everyone there, it’s almost easy to forget all about the drama of the last few days, but that might have something to do with the fact that Jax had brought the weed and Mick had mixed up a batch of jungle juice, and Sara’s fingertips were beginning to tingle in a way that was just this side of good.

At least she had until there was a knock on the door, and Len not knowing that they were expecting anyone else had slid up to the door to put on his  _ charm  _ to whatever neighbor was going to insist that they keep the noise down.

“Wait, Len, chill it’s just Ava.” 

“Who now?”

“Rip’s sister,” Sara explains, which is an answer enough because Amaya and Zari might have told  _ everyone  _ about her whole situation even though they were supposed to be keeping it on the downlow. 

Not that she was surprised just - 

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

Technically it had been Zari’s idea to invite Ava.

An idea that Amaya had encouraged with the advice for Sara to tell the truth. 

Which she would, eventually, just not during the kickback. 

No matter how many guilting looks Amaya shot her way. 

Instead, she focuses on Ava. On the obnoxiously large reindeer on her bright green sweater. On the slight flush of color on her cheeks. 

“Are you ready to meet my merry band of fuck ups?”

“I’m suddenly having regrets.” 

“Too late,” Sara insists, before turning around to the gathered group that have all clearly been attempting to eavesdrop, and shouting loud enough to be heard over Nate’s terrible music choices, “Hey assholes, this is Ava, she’s chill!”

Which is in turn greeted with mixed reactions. 

Ray: with a smile, all but leaping forward to introducing himself.

Nate: shouting “Stranger Danger.” 

Kendra: turning around with a pillow in a threatening position, telling Nate to be nice. 

Jax: offering her the  _ good kush _ .

Carter: finishing Jax’s meme effortlessly.

Amaya: giving Sara the  _ look _ . 

“Your friends are crazy.”

“You’ll get used to them,” Sara insists, shoving Nate out of the way to give Ava one of the seats on the couch, before instructing Carter to deal Ava into the game of Cards Against Humanity, and slipping out of the living room just as effortlessly to get them another round of drinks. 

Predictably Amaya corners her while she’s in the middle of grabbing two more cups of Mick’s jungle juice. 

“You can’t fuck her while you’re pretending to date her brother.”

“Woah, who said I was going to-”

“I know you, and I know that look.”

Which, okay valid. 

“I’m not that stupid.”

“It’s bad karma, Sara.”

“If I promise I won’t sleep with her, will you chill?” 

Amaya seems to consider that for a moment before nodding. “I just worry about you.” 

“Who doesn’t,” Sara replies, “Seriously, I got this totally under control.” 

With that she extracts herself from Amaya, heading back out into the mingling crowd. 

It’s sort of easy to get lost in the moment after that. They really all do fit together, even Ava, and once she finally starts to loosen up, she seems to genuinely enjoy herself getting incredibly competitive during their card games (something Sara probably shouldn’t find as attractive as she does), and even trading insults with Nate like it’s second nature. 

She fits.

The way none of the other people Sara has ever brought back to meet the gang has fit. 

And it makes her long for something, for this to be something that she has a chance with, for fate to have thrown her a good pitch for once. 

She’s not sure. 

And as the party is dying down, and Ava is one of the last few left to leave, Sara can’t help but feel that this is right where she belongs. 

“I should be getting back to my hotel,” Ava insists, stacking all of the cards carefully back in the box, even going as far to make them all face the right direction. 

“Yeah, I’ll walk you out,” Sara says, before turning to Ray and Nate who have somehow managed to linger back as well, “You two get out of here too, this is a Sara only zone in the next ten minutes, everyone outside waiting for an Uber let’s go.” 

They all manage to make it outside. 

Sara still not in much more than a leather jacket. 

And Ray practically carrying Nate. 

“I had a really good time,” Ava insists as they head down the last few steps. 

“Better than yesterday?”

“Well, I did get to spend more time with you tonight.”

“So worse,” Sara replies. 

Ava laughs. 

So much more genuine than any laugh Sara’s heard out of her before this, and the butterflies in her stomach respond helplessly. 

“Mistletoe!”

Nate’s exclamation, causes Sara to jerk towards him, about to insist that he’s drunk - which he is - but she stops, because a moment later Ava says, “Oh.” 

And Sara followers her gaze upwards instead. 

There it is, right outside the door to her apartment building, no doubt hung there by one of her friends intending to cause trouble. 

“We don’t have to,” Sara offers, “I mean, it’s bad luck not to, but I don’t want you to be uncomfortable if-”

Ava kisses her, cuts her off with lips pressed against hers.

It’s not a heated kiss, not really, just a soft press of lips together, that leaves Sara desperate for so much more. She wants to kiss Ava properly. The way a woman like her deserves to be kissed. She wants to kiss her until it’s the only thing either of them know how to do.

But she doesn’t get to, because Ava pulls back too soon, with a look that is both wanting and so guilty all at the same time that Sara doesn’t even know how to process it. 

“I’m sorry,” Ava says, quick in a rush, “I shouldn’t have, that wasn’t - that isn’t like me, I-”

She stops, the sound of a car horn distracting all of them, at once turning towards the road. 

Well, three of them turn towards the road. Sara can’t bring herself to look away from Ava. 

From those lips that she had been kissing moments before.

Even as the driver asks, “Did someone call an Uber?”

 

*

 

“So I fucked up.” 

That felt like a good place to start. 

“And I know you’re in a coma, so I guess you don’t really care and can’t offer advice, but - this is going to fucking suck when you wake up.”

She feels a little silly talking to Rip, especially since he’s in a coma, and she doesn’t even know him, but in a way this is all sort of his fault, and she needs to talk through her feelings, so who better?

“You were trying to save me, and even though I didn’t need it like, you’re a good person Rip. I don’t know you, not really, but I know you’re a good enough person to stand up for some random girl, and I know you don’t deserve this. Your sister definitely doesn’t deserve this,” Sara admits, “And I’m started to get to know her. And that’s the worst part, because I lied about being your girlfriend in order to be in that ambulance, but I never thought it would turn into this, I never thought that I would-” 

“Sara.” 

She doesn’t have to turn around to know who that voice belongs to.

Not when she’s heard it so often over the last few days.

But she does turn, if only to see the betrayed look on the other woman’s face.

“Ava.”

“You lied?”

“How much of that did you hear?”

“Enough,” Ava says, her voice tight. 

Hurt and angry, and Sara knows that she deserves that. 

“You lied about being Rip’s girlfriend, you’ve been lying to me for the past few days and for what?”

“Well, I mean originally it was-”

“Where do you get off on this?” 

“I panicked,” Sara says, sharply, “Okay, the address said New Jersey and I wasn’t sure if he had anyone, so I lied and said I was his girlfriend to make sure that he didn’t wake up alone in the hospital, because I know what that’s like and it fucking sucks.” 

“So it’s better to pretend to be-”

“You weren’t supposed to be here, and he wasn’t supposed to be in a coma, and I was supposed to say something that first night, but you showed up and looked so relieved to see that he wasn’t alone and I couldn’t take that away.” 

“How many other people knew,” Ava asks angrily, “Was everyone in on this big joke?”

“What no? I mean - a couple from last night knew because I was feeling bad, but my family thinks I’m dating Rip too which is a whole mess I’m going to have to sort out later but-”

“You’re some kind of fucked up aren’t you.” 

“You don’t even know me,” Sara snaps back.

And suddenly, the anger in the room seems to dial back, into something less. Something colder, like resignation, like disappointment.

This time when Ava meets her eyes, the fire is not there. 

Just something like sadness.

“You’re right, I don’t,” Ava says, softer then, “I think you should leave.” 

 

*

 

This isn’t the first time she’s shown up crying at Laurel’s doorstep.

That was the greatest thing about having an older sister: she could show up crying knowing that she’s in the wrong, and Laurel would always hug her tight and tell her that everything was going to be okay. 

And she could believe it.

Just for a moment. 

“I fucked up,” she murmurs into Laurel’s shoulder. “I fucked up, and fell in love with the wrong person, and I lied, and I think it’s too late to fix any of this, and I don’t know what to do.” 

Laurel pulls back from her, only for a moment, to brush the tears from Sara’s cheeks. 

“Step one, you tell me everything, the truth from the beginning,” Laurel tells her, “And step two, we come up with a proper plan to help you get the girl.” 

“You knew, didn’t you?” 

“I saw the way you looked at her and the way you looked at him, and I could tell. You are my baby sister.”

 

*

 

Having Zari hack the hotel that Ava is staying at to figure out her hotel room number is probably creepy, or it would be, if it wasn’t so romantic. After all, it was Christmas Eve, if there was ever a time to be romantic, and to get the girl, this was it.

And yet, she still hesitates for a moment, standing outside the door to Ava’s hotel room. 

Once again going over the plan she had Laurel had made together in her head, before finally knocking on the door. Three knocks in a rapid succession.

She waits. 

Waits for what feels like an eternity. 

Almost ready to give it up, after all, Ava is probably at the hospital or something, but then she hears it, the sound of the lock being undone, and the door swinging open ever so slightly, to reveal Ava there in a white bathrobe with a look that Sara can’t quite understand on her face.

She hopes it can still mean something good.

“I know this is probably a little creepy, finding you hotel room and all-”

“Just a little.”

“-And I know I’ve been awful for lying and not saying anything sooner, but I panicked and I know now that that is not your fault, okay. It’s mine. I’m an idiot, who didn’t think well on her feet, and didn’t know when to back out of a lie, and that’s on me. I have flaws, I can admit that.”

“An accomplishment,” Ava retorts, not as sharp or sarcastic as before.

Sara counts that as progress. 

“But here’s the thing, over the past three days, I started to feel things for you, which I didn’t even know was possible,” Sara insists, “And if I’m the only one feeling this way, say so now, and I’ll be on my way and this can all be written off as nothing, but if I’m not the only one feeling this way please tell me, because I think I might be falling for you, and I don’t know how to handle that.”

Ava seems to consider that for a moment, hesitance still there in her posture, but something else, something that tells Sara if she crossed the space between them to kiss Ava, that Ava just might kiss her back. 

“You still lied.”

“I’m not lying about this.”

Ava kisses her first, crosses the space between them, and reaches down to pull Sara to her. A place that Sara goes to willingly, pressing up on her toes, and reaching up to settle her arms and hold Ava to her, so that she can’t get away, so that she can’t lose any of this contact that she had almost thought impossible moments before.

Kissing Ava is everything that she imagined it to be.

So much more than the mistletoe.

It’s heat and passion and perfect, just the way she has always wanted to be kissed, as if Ava had been made just for kissing her.

When they break apart for air, it seems too soon and neither is willing to leave the others space, their breaths mingling, lips hovering so close that they still brush together ever so slightly. 

“You should invite me inside?”

“Should I?”

 

*

 

The phone rings and for a moment Sara almost forgets where she is.

The plush pillows beneath her head, the white walls around her, the warm body pressed up against her.

It takes a moment before it all comes back, she’s in Ava’s hotel room, but when the realization comes, it’s the perfect one.

The perfect way to spend the morning.

If it wasn’t for the phone ringing. 

“That’s your phone,” Ava mumbles into the pillow.

Sara groans, pressing a kiss to the side of Ava’s head, before stealing the blanket to wrap around herself as she makes her way over to her phone. 

Ava lets out of a noise of protest behind her, but Sara ignores it in her quest to grab her phone, blinking down at the caller ID,  _ Starling General. _

“Hey, Aves, I think Rip finally woke up.” 

“It’s a Christmas miracle.” 

 


End file.
